Empire of Deception (Harry Styles AU)

Chapter 37

Outside my flat it thunders, clouds turning London into a giant puddle. I watch electricity light up the sky from my sofa, a crystal of bourbon in my hand and a nearly empty bottle on the coffee table I rest my feet on.

Each flash of lightning slightly blinds me, and I attempt to blink the haze away. My mind is foggy but clinging to the threads of my conversation with Zayn.

I am falling in love with Victoria Jarwin.

I remember feeling as if I couldn't breathe, I remember feeling clammy, I remember me begging Zayn to yell at me, to tell me to stop saying fucking ridiculous shit. But he didn't. I remember repeating to myself that I was crazy, that the pressure finally broke me, but he told me that I'm a Styles. I don't break. I remember asking him what do I do now. And he said he didn't know. And then I hung up.

I feel sick. Sick and guilty and for some reason I believe that maybe if drown my liver in enough liquor, the whole night will go away. Me along with it.

Another flash of lighting lights up the dark room once again, and my drunk mind wanders. The Jarwin's are like lightning, I think to myself, strong voltage that chars everything it strikes. Killers. Bloodthirsty. Greedy. Selfish. Arrogant. Inhuman. Predators.

The bourbon burns my throat as I finish another glass, quickly pouring more.

My eyes close and I concentrate on the sound of rain pelting my window like small bullets.

I slump over, clutching a pillow to my chest. I feel it again. I was foolish to think I was doing better. My eyes sting and I try my best to fight the darkness coming for me but the emptiness finds its way back in. I can feel it creeping. A tear falls and I quickly wipe it away. I hurt and so I finish the bottle.

If I love her does that mean I am like her, or becoming like her? Like her brother or her father?

A fuzzy image of Akira Jarwin flashes in my mind, and I am reminded of her tenderness and her kindness. How did she fall in love with someone so cruel. So different from her? Unless darkness dwelled in her heart, too. Deep down.

And maybe my own heart is like that. To think I am innocent and good is ridiculous. It is a luxury that I don't have, a fantasy that I can't afford. In the end I am just like them, I am just like every sorry son-of-a-bitch working in this forsaken industry. I am another version of Christopher Jarwin. I see, I strategize, I break, and then I eliminate. Everyone knows it, especially my father and that's why I was originally working in public relations. I'm a master of manipulation, a champion of strength. I know how to get people to tell me what I want.

I think about my first contact with Mia. Fear in her eyes, trembling hands, and the look of wanting to get away from the monster in front of her.

It's that night again. I moan in pain, trying to stop myself from reliving my nightmare, but the alcohol has completely taken over and I don't seem to own my thoughts anymore. I am walking down the hallway, gun in my hand and fear in my heart. I turn the corner and the door is unlocked. I see Zayn standing in front of Mia, his arms behind him as he tries to protect her. Right in front of me is Niall. My friend. Pointing a gun towards two people I've come to like. Who are also my friends. I listen to Niall express his pain and I hear Mia crying softly, blood dripping onto the floor from her wounds. It takes only a second for me to lift my gun and pull the trigger. I feel the wetness of his blood soak my hands and my soul as I carefully lower him onto the floor.

I am horrible. I am evil. I am a murderer. I am a bringer of pain. I deserve nothing. I deserve to drown in the massive ocean of things that haunt me. I deserve to be pulled under.